


Odds

by FamilyBusiness



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-18
Updated: 2013-04-18
Packaged: 2017-12-08 21:09:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/766035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FamilyBusiness/pseuds/FamilyBusiness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester is a famous hot shot actor in a movie series called Supernatural (with as much appeal as Twilight) and after their final cut, his manager approaches him telling him of a request to be in a new Action/Comedy tv show called The Garrison as the main character, Jensen Ackles. Castiel Novack is a college student from a small town in Maine going on a trip to California with the school’s travel club and has a strong distaste for the famous Dean Winchester. What happens when these two stumble across each others paths?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Odds

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, this is my first fic. Ever. And it just so happens to be the first chapter of my first fic. SOOOO Feedback. I would like as much feedback as I can possibly get. Even if it's just an "It's terrible" or "Looks good" then that'd be okay with me. But pplllleeeaaasseeee tell me what you think. I don't want to end up writing this for nothing.

“And that's a wrap!” A short ring followed the voice signaling the end of the take. No, scratch that. The end of filming entirely. 

Dean stretched his arms out ahead of him and rolled his shoulders, his eyes cast up to the sky. “Ugh,” he growled, “Finally.” He started walking off the set, past the group of cast and crew gathering around in a circle. Dean contemplated if staying to say his goodbyes to everyone was worth it. Overdramatic actors and actresses saying how much they loved everyone and that they'd never forget this particular group of people. Tears gathering at the corners of several group members' eyes. 

As if being in the production for four years wasn't bad enough. The plot was shitty, the books were even worse, the cast was made up of just a shit ton of self-centered idiots who's egos shot further through the roof the more popular the damn movies became. All of this and the teenaged girls throughout the entire universe were in love with it. 

No. Dean had enough of this as it was. It's not like he wouldn't see any of them again. They still had to go to conventions together and do interviews. The only difference would be that Dean didn't have to practically live with them all twenty hours a day, seven days a week. In short, Dean started walking off the set in the opposite direction of the gathering of people as fast as he could. 

“Winchester!” A voice called out after him. Dean kept walking in hopes that he could make it seem like he hadn't heard them. 

“Winchester!” The person called again, significantly closer this time. Dean heard a pair of feet hit the ground in a running manner after him. Dean sped up his pace just a little as he walked into the parking lot. He reached into his leather jacket pulling out his keys as he reached his black, '67 chevy impala. He quickly unlocked the door and opened it to get in as the person who was chasing after him finally caught up. 

“Winchester.” The man huffed. “Finally.” 

“What, you decided to stop calling me by my name?” Dean recognized the man instantly as his manager Chuck Shurley. He was a thin, short, scruffy looking man who looked like he was in grave need of a shower. 

“Winchester is your name.” Chuck retorted. Dean simply sat down in the driver's seat of the impala and started her up. “Fine. Dean.” Chuck raised his voice a little to be heard over the hum of the engine. Dean stared at him and raised his eyebrow in expectance. 

“So I take it there's nothing I can do to convince you to stay?” Chuck almost sounded exhausted. Dean took note of that and decided he was going to have to give him a day off soon. 

“Not a chance.” 

“What would you like me to tell them, then?” Annoyed, Chuck leaned against the impala. 

“How 'bout, 'Dean hates you all. Goodbye'? Has a catchy ring to it.” Chuck merely heaved a sigh, rolling his eyes lightly at Dean. “I don't know, man! Just-- tell them my mother came to visit without notice and is waiting at my house or something.” 

“You do see the flaw in that, don't you?” Dean looked out the window at Chuck with desperate eyes. “Whatever. If that doesn't work I'll think of something else. I also wanted to talk to you about something.” Chuck relaxed his shoulders a bit and crouched down to look at Dean at eye level. “An agency called. They're going to start up a new show on the CW. Something called Garry's Son? Hold on, let me check. I wrote it down somewhere.” Chuck stuffed his hands into his pockets. After a few seconds of searching he finally pulled out a coffee-stained napkin with sharpie scribbles over it. “Ah, yes. It's uhh, called The Garrison. About two unlikely friends. Yada-yada. They work in a government complex in Washington. Their lives are boing.” As Chuck reads off the details, Dean finds himself slowly getting bored with the tv show already. “And they accidentally got themselves in the middle of a case where afterwards they then go on to solve crime as unexpected, everyday citizens.” That sounded a bit more intriguing. 

“And?” Dean looked at Chuck expectantly.

“Annndd... they called us.” Chuck's tone more than likely indicated to any passersby that he was talking to a five year old. “They want you to play the main character. Whats-his-name.” Chuck looked at his napkin again. “Jensen Ackles.” He read slowly pronouncing each syllable. “Now, look. I know that the role is uhh... different from the one you played in this film, but remember, it was this film that got you where you stand--” Chuck glanced at the impala, “rather sit, today. Now that the filming of this movie is over, you don't want your popularity to drop, so you do the show and if it's good, you'll make more money than before.” 

“I know how this business works, Chuck. Not only that, but you should know, a great actor doesn't create a bias towards characters. They mold themselves into these new people, each one completely different from the other.” Dean smirked a little at remembering his drama teacher back in high school telling him this. The memory flashed by quickly as another thought passed through his mind. “How much will I get paid?” 

Chuck lit up as soon as he heard the words leave Dean's lips. He knew that Dean was actually considering it. “Four-fifty a day. Pretty high for a new show, but you sir, are high up in the rankings so they'll do their best to get you.” Dean moved forward and placed his hand on the gear shifter. “All you need to do is show up on the day of auditions and you've practically got the job.” 

“When is it?”

“Friday at nine in the morning. Be there fifteen minutes early. Make a good impression. You'll read a few lines then they'll give you the job.” Chuck stuck a finger out at Dean. “If you do this, you'll sign a contract for probably more than just four years. Remember that. When they give you the script, read it over just to check to see if you think it's worth it. If not, just hand it back to them and tell them 'no thanks.' Just be polite about it.” 

“Yeah. Whatever. Where is it?” 

“The only CW office in all of LA.” 

“K. See you there, then. Have a nice life, Chuck.” 

Dean geared up to leave yet again when Chuck chimed in. “Dean.” 

“What is it now?” Dean rolled his eyes. 

“You're still in full makeup and costume.” 

Dean looked down at his body and realized he had almost completely forgotten. “Tell them I'll have the cleaners send it to them.” And with that, Dean pulled out of the lot as fast as he could, leaving Chuck and the rest of the cast and crew behind him.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, this is my first fic. Ever. And it just so happens to be the first chapter of my first fic. SOOOO Feedback. I would like as much feedback as I can possibly get. Even if it's just an "It's terrible" or "Looks good" then that'd be okay with me. But pplllleeeaaasseeee tell me what you think. I don't want to end up writing this for nothing.


End file.
